time
by Miss Keeley
Summary: Harry visits the palce his parents were burried for the first time.


**Time**

**Disclaimer: Anything you may recognize belongs to JK Rowling, this plot bunny is property of EmmyLou.**

_**Summer before Sixth Year**_

He looked down the pathway. The passage of time had caused the stones to fade, and a light dusting of dirt and rock covered the stones. He took the first few steps. The leaves cracked under neath his weight. He made his way silently through the forest. They had told him this was the way. They said that the place was just around the corner.

He wasn't sure if he could go through with this. With each step, he felt his heart growing heavy. His friends followed at a steady pace behind him. None of them spoke. None of them were quite sure what to say, to be honest.

_What does one say when doing something like this? _He mused silently to himself. It couldn't be a very pleasant conversation at all.

They reached the corner of the path, and he closed his eyes. This was it. If he could do this; all he had to do was open his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Whatever it meant, he took it as a good sign and opened his eyes. Before him stood Godric's Hollow.

"This is it," He heard himself whisper hoarsely. Beside him, he could see his friends. They looked just as much in awe as he did.

The path to the house was short, or shorter then the one they had just travelled down. The road was just as beaten up; with faded stones and a thin layer of dirt. Along side there were traces of where are garden had once been. The house; the house was amazing. It wasn't flashy, or even that large. It was exactly what he had imagined it to be. A Small, white two-story home with an oak door and red shutters around the windows. The paint on the outside had become chipped over the years, and the lack of care for the house left ivy growing up the sides of the house and a corner of the front window was cracked.

It didn't take long to walk down the path, maybe seconds, maybe minutes, but to him it felt like hours. Hours until he could see with his own eyes what actually happened.

They reached the front of the door, and his hand grasped the handle. The door creaked sharply as it opened, and they took a look inside.

The walls were slightly charred, and the carpet still held the stains of blood. He looked into the next room; what might've been the living room. There was a picture on the mantle that had been knocked aside, the glass still shattered on the floor. It appeared as though nobody had come in since then. Or if they had, they had tried hard not to move anything.

It could have been a nice house. _It probably was at one time. _He thought to himself. His hand ran across the side of the sofa, his fingers playing absently with the burnt thread on the end.

"It's gorgeous," She breathed from behind him.

He would've agreed with her. It was amazing. The sofa sat facing the fireplace, while a chair sat on either end of the sofa, with what would have been an oak table in the middle.

His friend opened one of the large bay windows, causing the light fixture to sway slightly with the wind.

His eyes focused on the table. Lying on the table was a thin piece of wood, it had been _his _wand.

"We should keep going. They'll be back soon."

They walked back into the main foyer, and he looked up the stairs. He didn't think he could bring himself to go up those stairs.

Not now.

Beside them, was the dining room. The table still had four place settings out, and one of the chairs was pushed out slightly. On the floor beside his foot were the remains of what had been a tray, which appeared to have been dropped, as several shards of glass littered the ground.

He stepped over the tray, and towards the door that led to the back. This, _this _is where they said he had to go to see them.

His friends pushed open the door, and he followed. Everyone remained silent as they entered the large backyard.

"Over there," His friend pointed to two large stones beside a willow tree a short distance away. They started to make their way over.

They reached the stones, and he felt his knees give weigh. _This_ was what they had come here for.

"Mum….Dad……" He heard his voice whisper hoarsely. "I'm sorry………I'm sorry I could do anything, I'm sorry I couldn't save him. I've….I've failed," His hand traced the wording on the stone. From behind him, she handed him two single white lilies. He placed them in front of the stones.

They stood there for a few minutes, in silence.

"It's…It's time to go," He felt a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, and stood up.

_**Three years later. **_

He found himself standing in the same spot, as he had done three years prior. But this time, this time he was alone.

"I couldn't save them," He whispered, kneeling in front of the stones. "Just like the other time. I had to watch them as they died…." His voice sounded hoarse. Remembering his bag, he dug out four objects covered in cloth.

"They…..they asked me to leave these here, and to add one of my own,"

He unwrapped the first one, revealing a round, chipped mirror. He placed it in between the stones.

He unwrapped the second, revealing a small chocolate bar and a photo. A photo of five seventh year Gryffindors sitting by the lake at Hogwarts and waving to the camera. A redheaded girl, a messy-haired boy who had his arm slung around the girl, a dark haired boy who grinned deviously at the camera, a sandy-haired boy who sat in one of the lower branched of the willow, and a blonde boy who sat eating a sugar quill. He placed it in between them in between the stones.

He unwrapped the third object, revealing a single feather from the tail of a phoenix. He place it under the mirror between the stones.

And finally, he unwrapped the fourth object; his own. A worn out piece of parchment, faded in some spots. To the normal eye, it appeared blank. He then muttered the key phrase:

"_I solemnly swear I am up to no good," _And slowly on the front of the parchment, faded jade green ink materialized.

_The Marauders Map. _

He placed the map with the other objects between the stones.

"Remus and Sirius; along time ago," He started. "They asked me to tell you, '_I'm sorry.' _ They all did. Mum, Dad, they all miss you here. I do too. I really…"

Now that he was here, now that it was time he couldn't think of anything to say.

"I really miss you."

That was all he could say.

Tell them how much he missed them; and how much he loved them.

And all he could really think about was how much he wished they were still alive.

_Well. I was looking around on another site, and I found a marvellous plot bunny from the great EmmyLou that I felt I could turn into a fanfic. In the actual idea, it was to write from the first person as Harry visited the place his parents were buried for the first time. I'm really bad at writing first person, so I tried it in third person._

_Guide to who was who: _

_**He: Harry**_

_**She: Hermione**_

_**His friend: Ron**_

"_**Him" (when Harry says: "I couldn't save him"): Sirius**_

"_**Them" (when Harry says: "I couldn't save them"): Ron & Hermione **_

_**They (when Harry says: "They asked me to leave these here, and to add one of my own"): Well. There are several possibilities as to who these people could be, but I think that maybe it would be best if I didn't say who I intended them to be. I'll leave you all to your own ideas for that. **_

_**Mum, Dad: Well. I think this one is a little easy. Lily and James, respectively. (Unless James is now Mum, and not Dad? Oo) **_

**Well. Please tell me what you think. **


End file.
